


Es war einmal...

by River_of_Dawn



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, German Fairytails, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, World War II, but not many
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 13:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16576991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_of_Dawn/pseuds/River_of_Dawn
Summary: "Es war einmal..." [German; "Once upon a time" ]It is WWII and it's late and Italy had a nightmare.Well, no better time to tell Italy a fairytale to calm down...





	Es war einmal...

**Author's Note:**

> [Disclaimer] I don't own Hetalia. I am not making any money. (I also don't own the fairytale.)

It was already dark outside when Germany wrote down a last signature for the day. As important as paperwork was, it got annoying real quick and he often spent hours reading through the papers.

“ _Immer dieser Papierkram_ ,“ he grumbled.

He rubbed his eyelids. They felt heavy. The war was taking it’s toll on him, weighting his bones down with tiredness and weariness.

Germany sighed before walking towards the door.

He felt a headache growing.

Somewhere he could feel his people dieing. And he hated his boss for that. Before Hitler it had been worse, he had barely been able to move for some time, but this wasn’t all that much better.

Striding up the stairs – he couldn’t show weakness, German men showed no weakness – he went towards his bedroom.

Passing Prussia’s room he noticed that his brother had fallen asleep whilst working. Looking at Gilbert, he stepped into his room, lifting him from the desk and settling him on his bed. Pulling the covers over the unusually slack and drained body, Germany smiled softly. It wasn’t all that often that he got the opportunity to see his older brother this peaceful.

Having turned off the light, Ludwig gently closed the door and continued walking towards his bedroom.

Lately his brother had seemed more tired. He wondered, whether this was the Allies fault. It most likely was.

Sometimes he missed the days when he was still young. Technically he was still young, not even a century old, but he had already fought a war. Germany thought that meant he was grown up enough.

But he still missed those days when his brother was full of energetic awesomeness, telling stories and laughing.

Back then they had both been so happy and carefree.

Japan seemed to be sleeping quietly.

Still, he wanted to check on his ally, only to remember that he had been forced to go to Japan the day before. Apparently his boss had done something quite stupid and he now had to deal with an angry China. Or something like that. Even though he prided himself on being organized, at this late hour he just seemed unable to concentrate.

Sighting, annoyed at himself, Germany forced himself to continue walking. His heavy boots echoed on the hard floor as he went down the hallway.

Seeing Italy’s door Germany frowned. There was light, a small shine on the floor, indicating that Italy was still awake. Still, just in case Italy had fallen asleep with the lights on (again) Germany opened the wooden door carefully.

… only to be greeted with the sight of Italy sitting on his bed, head turned facing the wall and shoulders shaking. The covers were pulled up, cocooning the small nation. Even Italy’s curl seemed to be simply hanging down.

Concerned, Germany went over to the bed.

At the sound of the footfalls, Italy seemed to hunch even further, concealing himself in his warm, thick blankets – maybe hiding from the cold? Whilst Germany wasn’t all that cold it was still colder than Italy.

But that had never bothered the Italian before, so why now? Not even considering an illness, another option would be that Italy wasn’t feeling all that well because of his mental state, meaning that he was in some sort of emotional distress.

Germany thought about what to do now.

He wasn’t good with all that emotional stuff.

But when he was still young Prussia would always make him talk about stuff and then he would explain why that wasn’t a problem – after all he was the awesome Prussia.

Whilst that exactly wouldn‘t help in this situation, the tactic would most likely still apply. He would just have to change some stuff. The first step would be to talk and then he would have to comfort the Italian. Maybe he should tell a story. A battle-story like Prussia used to tell most likely wouldn‘t have the intended affect. It would most likely make the Italian even more anxious.

So, he would need another story.

Looking down at the shivering Italy he quickly thought about possible stories. To tell the truth, he didn’t know all that many stories aside from those that Prussia had told him.

Oh! A fairytale would most likely work, wouldn’t it?

And Germany knew those stories quite well – after all generations of his people grew up with those stories! And considering how many children were told those stories they should be perfect.

Now that he had a plan as for what to do, Germany softly let his hand rest on Italy’s shoulder.

“ _Italien?_ Are you all right?” Germany asked, trying – and failing – to make his voice sound soft.

“Ve~?”

It was said so quiet Germany had to strain his ears to hear the Italien.

“Are you all right?” he asked again, a bit of concern seeping into his voice. Then he lifted his hand again. What if it was making Italy uncomfortable?

“ _Sì_...”

All was silent, then…

“ _Temo di no_...”

Italy’s voice was shaking, nothing at all like the usual confident tone.

“Do you want to talk about it, Italy?”

If he was to be honest, Germany felt so out of his depth right now. He had simply no idea as for how to deal with this scared and quit Italy. And if there was one thing besides loosing that the German didn’t like it was not knowing what to do. He simply always needed to have a plan, so he would try and stick to the plan he thought up earlier.

“ _Non lo so, Germania._ ”

“It will help you, Italy.” At least he had read that in a book about psychology.

“Are you sure?” Brown eyes looked at him, full of hope.

“ _Ja_ , Italy.”

“You won’t think that I’m weak?”

“ _Niemals_.”

And Germany meant it. Even thought Italy wasn’t very good at fighting and was sometimes whiny and at other times full of energy, he would never think of the other country as weak. Even thought there was no logical explanation for it – something that buggered him to no end – he liked having the Italian around and wouldn‘t think of him as weak or useless.

“I-it… it was a nightmare,” Italy confessed, hiding his head in the sheets immediately afterwards, only brown locks sticking out.

“Oh...” How should he proceed now? Maybe he should lay a hand on Italy’s shoulder, that was supposed to have a calming effect and showed approval. Resting a leather-gloved hand on his allies’ shoulder. And then…

“Do you want to talk about it.” Noticing Italy’s hesitation, he added another bit on. “I won’t judge.”

“Really?”

Somehow it seemed to hurt hearing this question.

“ _Ja_. I already told you that I will never think of you as weak, _Italien_. No matter what you dreamed about.”

“Would it be okay if I don’t want to tell you, _Germania_?”

“Of course.” Whilst there were things Germany would command Italy to do, like training, this was a decision the Italian had to make himself. It certainly wouldn‘t help the war-effort were he to alienate his allies.

“ _Grazie_ ,” Italy murmured.

It made Germany concerned as for how well the Italian was, since he usually spoke English. But then again, Italy usually talked about Pasta, so that wouldn‘t help him at all.

When Italy said nothing more, Germany frowned.

That nightmare must have seriously messed with his head, if Italy was this quiet.

Well, even if that was the case, he wasn’t going to leave.

“It… it was about… about a person I once knew… he died long ago. But I still miss him.” Italy’s voice shook as he continued to speak. This person must have been pretty important to Italy. Well, before he had died.

“He… We were close… I… you know, Germany, usually I don’t really think about him all that much anymore… but… I dunno! I, I don’t really want to speak about this. Is that alright?”

“Of course.”

So, how should he get to the part, where he would tell Italy a fairytale? Maybe he should just do it the simple way.

“Is there anything I could do to get your mind off of that nightmare?”

“You would do that?”

Brown eyes stared at Germany’s hard, cold blue.

Germany simply nodded, not really trusting his voice.

“Ve~! _Grazie, Germania!_ You are really nice!”

Germany could feel his cheeks burning. Nobody ever said that he was nice…

“ _Danke, Italien._ It is very kind of you to say such a thing.”

“ _Non c’è problema!_ Oh… would you sing a song please?”

“I’m sorry, Italy, but I can’t really sing. Maybe I could tell you a German fairytale instead.”

“ _Sì!_ I would love to hear more about your culture!”

“Well, the _Märchen_ is one of the more famous ones. Have you ever heard of the fairytale about a boy who went to learn how to be afraid? It would fit the situation very well, I think.”

“Maybe another one, Germany? That one sounds like it would be scary...”

“Oh… Well, if that’s the case… how about Hänsel and Gretel?”

“Not that one, Germany! I’ve heard about it… Isn’t that the one, where two kids get lost in a forest and then meet a witch who tries to eat them?”

Italy was shivering.

Maybe it wasn’t quite warm enough in the house…? No, that couldn’t be the reason for the shivering. He would have to find out the reason later. Now he had to tell Italy a fairytale. But which one…? Maybe… Yes, that one was quite well known in Germany and many of the kids knew it.

“Have you ever heard about the Suppenkasper? It’s a famous fairytale in Germany and it’s as German as it can get.”

“I don’t think I know that one...” Italy squished his eyes together and shook his head. “And _Suppe_ … Does that mean it includes food?”

“Indeed. Shall I just get my German fairytale book and translate it for you or should I just tell you the story the way I remember it?”

“Your way, _prego_ , Germania!”

“Alright. So, once upon a time there was a boy named Kasper and he was a healthy boy, if a bit chubby. And whilst he would usually eat his soup, this time he started shouting. “I won’t eat this soup! No! I won’t eat this soup!””

“That wasn’t very nice,” Italy interrupted.

“No, it wasn’t. But you shouldn’t speak, otherwise you’ll never fall asleep.”

“Oh, alright Germany! Shutting-a up now!”

“Okay, so he shouted and refused to eat his soup. And when the next day came, Kasper was already a lot thinner. But again, as he was served his soup he started shouting again. “I won’t eat this soup, no, I won’t eat this soup!” On the third day, Kasper was weak and thin, but he started shouting again as he was served his soup. “No, I won’t eat this! I won’t eat this soup! No, I won’t eat soup, no!” And on the fourth day Kasper was as thin as a stick and barely had any weight left – and on the fifth day he was dead.”

Germany looked at Italy, who looked like he had seen a ghost.

“You should try and sleep now, Italy. Good night.”

As Germany left the room he was slightly confused as for why Italy looked so scared. He had even opted for a story without any blood and with food in it. But, then again, it was Italy and who knew what Italy actually thought most of the time.

And he should go to sleep as well. After all it was quite late already.

The next morning Germany woke up at 6 o’clock. He stood up, got dressed in his military uniform and went down to get some breakfast for all the others. After having heard a fairytale about food the evening before, Italy was bound to be hungry.

Quickly getting out some black bread and cheese as well as sausage, he went to the stove to cook some white sausages. Having put everything on the table he added some mustache and put a jar with apple juice on it as well.

“ _Guten Morgen, West!_ ” Prussia came into the kitchen, dressed in his military uniform as well. “ _Mann, das sieht aber gut aus! Fast so gut wie ich.”_

“Nothing will ever look as good as you. Not even breakfast. I know. Have you seen _Italien_ already?”

“What? Not even a “Good Morning!” for the awesome me?”

“Good Morning. Have you seen Italy already?”

Prussia shrugged.

“Nah. Should I go and wake him?”

“It’s okay. I’ll do it.”

Germany walked through the house to the Italians door, bracing himself for the difficult job to come: Waking Italy. Oh, well, everybody had their weaknesses.

“England is coming!”

“Ah! Don’t hurt me! Please! I’ll do anything you want! ...Oh, it’s you Germany! Is it time for _prima colazione_ already?”

“ _Ja._ It’s been ready for ten minutes now.”

“Oh. Ve~ I’ll come in a moment-a!”

“Alright. _Preußen_ and I will start already.”

“ _Va bene!_ See you in a moment, _Germania_!”

Ten minutes later they were all sitting around the table, eating their breakfast.

“Tastes amazing, West!”

“Ve~, Prussia is right. Not as good as Italian food, but still good!”

“ _Danke_. So, Italy, I hope you were able to sleep well?” Germany asked in an attempt to change the topic. Only to be drenched in a waterfall of tears.

“No~! It was so horrible! I couldn’t sleep at all afterwards! It was horrible~!”

“Kesesese! What did West do to you?”

“He-a told me a _fiaba_ and I was so scared!”

“ _Ein Märchen_? Why would you tell little Italy a fairytale?”

“He couldn’t sleep, so I told him the story about the _Suppenkasper_.”

“The _Suppenkasper_ had him in tears?” Prussia looked disbelieving. “The _Suppenkasper_? As in “a fairytale written by a father for his three year old son”? I can’t believe it, kesesese!”

The German brothers looked at each other and Germany’s mouth quirked a bit into smile.

Just as he was about to take another bite of the _Weißwurst_ with mustard, a soldier came running into the room.

All three Germans saluted.

“What is the problem, soldier?” Germany asked, suddenly serious.

“Sir, America has joined the war.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! If you did, leave a kudo or bookmark behind, okay? Danke!
> 
> First of all I wanted to mention that I do not speak Italian, so if there are any mistakes, be sure to point them out to me.
> 
> Also, I just wanted to mention that the fairytale "Suppenkasper" was indeed written by a German father for his three year old son. The English name for Suppenkasper seems to be "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup", so if you are interested in reading the original fairytale I would recommend it. Also, this is, in fact, a story small kids listen to in Germany ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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